


The Watcher

by TerminallyCagey



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, Gen, Halloween, One Shot, scary story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminallyCagey/pseuds/TerminallyCagey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a figure, in the trees. I see them there, watching me. Ichigo has had something watching him from the woods for a very long time. He does not know what it is and he does not know what it wants. The Figure just stands there. Silently watching. Never showing more than a pair of luminous eyes burning in the darkness from one shadow that is deeper than the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watcher

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a dude walking through a patch of trees from my window in the university dorms one night. It was kinda eerie and actually gave me a bit of a fright. So I wrote a poem about it. Then I was listening to a song called 'Come Little Children' by Erutan (I like it quite a bit, it's a quiet kind of chilling) and the idea for this story kinda popped into my head. The poem can be found at the beginning of this story and - including an accompanying picture - on my writing Tumblr at:  
> extreme-maximum-canon.tumblr.com/post/140842068670/figure-in-the-trees

  
  
  


.:~:0:~:.  
  
There is a figure, in the trees  
I see him looking back at me  
But when I look again he's gone  
Now he's down upon the lawn  
  
I turn around and hope to be  
Once again alone and free  
Of that gaze like wicked fire  
I think the situation's dire  
  
Now it's far too late to flee  
He's much to close in company  
At my window, he's peering in  
Now I can see his vicious grin  
  
My heart stutters in my breast  
I see him reaching for my chest  
Looming in my room he's there  
I know I haven't got a prayer  
  
  
.:~:0:~:.

 

Every night Ichigo went to his window to take one last look at the beautiful night before going to sleep, and every time Ichigo saw it, The Figure in the trees. Every night it was there, even on the rare occasions where Ichigo was too tired to go to his window and gaze lovingly at the world blanketed in his beloved night, he could feel the presence out there. Could tell that a steady gaze was trained on his bedroom window from out in the trees. Silently watching. 

The Figure had not always been there, Ichigo knew that at least. He knew because he could distinctly remember the first night he spotted it and swore that The Figure locked gazes with him. Though it was too dark and too far for him to really tell. It had unsettled Ichigo quite a bit, this being that stood there so still, watching him until he fell asleep each night. 

Ichigo had asked his parents on a few different occasions to look out the window, or asked them what The Figure in the trees was. They never saw anything, and if Ichigo went to look out the window while they were still gazing out themselves, he would find that he could not see The Figure any more either. Which puzzled him, and all the more so because he could still distinctly feel that he was being watched from the itch between his shoulder blades.

The Figure was never in the trees during the day, and if Ichigo went out to search for footprints or other evidence of his nightly visitor, he never found anything. Even if he looked after it rained, or after the quiet still nights that had a crisp blanket of new, untouched snow on the ground. Ichigo would look out his window and see The Figure standing there, as if it had been there all along, but in the morning when he would rush out too look, there was not a single snowflake out of place or indents in wet earth where someone, or something, might have stood.

Initially Ichigo had been scared and wary, if a little curious as well; he wondered at The Figure in the trees. Wondered at the shadow which was much darker than it should have been – even though it seemed to have white clothes on – with eyes that burned like little yellow stars in the darkness of the night. The Figure was unlike the spirits that Ichigo saw during the day when he was out and about. Those were mostly friendly or unthreatening and very intangible; this one seemed far from unthreatening, and more solid than a ghost should be.

Any time Ichigo contemplated going out into the darkness to approach The Figure, a feeling in the pit of his stomach made him think better of the idea. There was something not quite right about The Figure - beyond the obvious, of course - Ichigo knew that, and felt it, in the very core of his being this was something he knew. Yet still a detached, almost morbid sense of curiosity brought about the thought more than once.

Ichigo grew a little less curious with time though, and a little less scared. At least he liked to think so. The Figure never did anything after all, just stood there, silently watching. Always watching. This went on for years, and Ichigo at some point had started talking to The Figure when he would stand at his window watching his watcher. He didn't talk to the being all the time, only when he felt his squelched curiosity trying rise up again, or when his carefully boxed fear would start wriggling its way back out into his mind.

There was no specific feeling of danger that washed over him when he opened his window to speak to The Figure. The first time Ichigo had decided to try and engage it, he had asked it what its name was and did not receive an answer even after a long pause. Unfazed, Ichigo pressed on and introduced himself. He asked more questions that did not receive answers as unblinking eyes burning in the darkness continued to stare. Ichigo talked about innocuous things after that that did not get responses until he was tired, and after telling The Figure as much, closed his window and went to sleep for the night.

The Figure became a bit of a marvel to Ichigo and something to talk at. Sometimes in the dead of night, when he was sure the rest of his family was sleeping, Ichigo would open his window and greet The Figure, then hold a one-sided conversation with it for a bit before getting tired and heading to the comfort of his bed. The talking was a good way to help calm the restlessness The Figure - to greater and lesser degrees - caused Ichigo to feel.

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

One day something unthinkable happened, Ichigo's mother died. Killed when she fell down the riverbank chasing after Ichigo when he had rushed towards a flooding river because he thought he saw a little girl down by the muddy water. One moment he was trying to help a little girl that looked to be about his own age, and the next he was crawling out from under his mother who had fallen atop him following a sickening cracking sound.

Ichigo was eventually found kneeling next to his mother's body and staring blankly down at her. The police and paramedics had been called and took him away from his mother's body, they asked him questions and soon his father came to get him. The funeral was held not long after that, and Ichigo’s mother was put to rest. Though many people at the funeral had cried, including his own young sisters, Ichigo's eyes had remained stubbornly dry. He could not bring himself to cry, not even a single tear.

Ichigo did not talk to anyone for a while after that, not even The Figure in the trees. Especially not It, even though he could still feel the presence outside his window, still watching, unwavering in its observation. That consistency made him feel a wearily bitter bit of amusement for some reason, that this figure which haunted him outside in the trees and in the rare nightmare was still there when his beloved mother was gone forever.

Ichigo only talked to The Figure in the trees one more time after the death of his mother. It was a bitter fall night and he could taste the frost on the air and the chill wind bit at his skin as he opened his window to talk to The Figure as he had not done in weeks and weeks. At first Ichigo said nothing, just staring back at The Figure watching him, watching his watcher. Then, Ichigo started talking. About his mother dying and how crushing the sadness of that was, about how he missed her. He said everything that he had not been able to tell another living soul. And Ichigo cried. 

The tears that had not fallen at his mother's funeral, nor after, started to fall. Ichigo quietly said everything he wanted to, and eventually grew silent when all his words of regret and mourning ran dry. Then he took a deep shuddering breath in and let it out slowly, bowing his head for a moment. When Ichigo raised his head up again there was a wobbly little smile on his face as he asked The Figure how it had been, and started a one-sided conversation with it as he had so many times in the past. When Ichigo eventually grew tired, he bid The Figure good night, shut his window, and went to his bed to sleep.

Ichigo did not talk to The Figure again after that night when he poured his broken heart out to it. He also began to scowl more often than not and got a bit of a delinquent's reputation for his hair and the way he put down anyone who gave him trouble about it or anything else. Ichigo would still look out his window every night to gaze at the beautiful night sky, the moon, the stars, and at the landscape around him under the dark veil of night. It still held a sense of wonder and beauty to Ichigo even now. The night had always been a comforting thing to him, and he was sure it always would be. 

Sometimes Ichigo's gaze would sweep over The Figure that still watched him as it had for so long now, and sometimes his gaze would linger, but not often. Life went on, with time the ache of loss that began to dim and become bearable. The Figure continued to watch him, but Ichigo began to notice it less than he used to, or rather, he had stopped looking for The Figure in the trees, had stopped purposely picking out its presence. Ichigo focused on other things and put the watcher out of his mind.

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

Years later, a strange thing happened. The Figure in the trees stopped coming. Ichigo clearly remembers that night too, as clearly as he remembers the night The Figure first appeared. Ichigo had not had the urge or desire to look for The Figure he knew was in the trees – still silently watching him – in a very long time. That night however, there was a niggling feeling in his mind and so Ichigo had gone to his window and opened it, letting the warm summer air in. 

Ichigo looked out and smiled up at the beautiful crescent moon hanging above him in the sky, and then the smile faded as he started looking for The Figure he knew would be out there looking up at him. It did not take Ichigo long to spot it, all menacing shadow and fiery eyes, since it had always stood in the same spot every night from the start. The two of them regarded each other for several moments before Ichigo's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

The Figure that never moved except to sway a little, never blinked, never showed itself in any way to anyone but Ichigo, did two of those things. Ichigo watched, a little dumbfounded, as the glowing eyes blinked at him and a hand rose in a mocking salute - Ichigo would even swear he could see a wide, slightly manic grin on its face to match - before The Figure turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the trees. Ichigo stood for a moment, stunned by what had just happened. Then he closed his window stiffly and went to bed. That was the night of Ichigo's sixteenth birthday.

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

Years later and Ichigo had not seen nor felt the presence of The Figure in the trees watching him from afar. At first he had not known what to think, he was worried, curious, a little scared even; it was unsettling. The presence that had been there for a good portion of his life had suddenly vanished like mist in the morning sun; there and then suddenly gone. 

Ichigo hadn't noticed how soothing that constant presence – as un-natural as it was – had become to him until it was gone. Regardless of the fact that having an unknown being observing you silently from the trees for years was bizarre and foreboding, The Figure had nearly always been there. Never coming closer or moving farther, never giving or taking, just a constant presence, and now that it was gone, Ichigo felt the loss. There was also the behaviour of The Figure before it left on that night. Ichigo had no clue why after all that time it had decided to move in his presence, to acknowledge Ichigo in any way, and then to leave while Ichigo still watched.

It was all even more bizarre than The Figure's presence in the first place really, the night that it had left. Ichigo hoped that maybe The Figure would come back again, but after a month or so of nothing, that hope dwindled to nothing. That made Ichigo a little sad for a reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Even if the presence never sat quite right with him, it never sat quite wrong either.

Then, exactly one week before his twentieth birthday, Ichigo woke with a start. He did not know why exactly, but like lightning he was out of bed and throwing his window open. There, in the trees exactly where he had always been before, was The Figure. Ichigo was at a total loss, and so he just stood there breathing hard as shivers ran up and down his spine in both warning and excitement. The Figure was back. His figure was back. 

The Figure that had never really been illuminated by the light of the moon and stars from his spot amongst the trees was before him, just standing there, and then for the second time, Ichigo saw it move. The Figure stepped out of the trees towards him and into the open space between the trees and Ichigo's back yard to be illuminated by the light of the moon. 

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath as The Figure was finally visible in greater detail. It was not an It, but a male from what he could see, with skin as deathly and inhumanly white as bones bleached by an unforgiving sun for too many years. His hair was a long tumble of white too, like the full moon. Their eyes were still the same as ever, burning eerily in the darkness, but now Ichigo could see more of the face and as he studied The Figure, Ichigo saw a wide face-splitting grin appear.

That grin. Ichigo had always remained a little wary of The Figure in the trees, even as he had shoved that feeling aside with the reassurance that it never did anything but watch, and that wariness stirred then and grew in intensity. This being was dangerous, very dangerous. Ichigo paled as he watched The Figure moving, revealing himself like he never had before. Slowly the shock wore off and Ichigo could not help the wave of apprehension that washed over him. He stiffened and worried about what malicious thing The Figure might be planning.

Nothing happened. Ichigo watched and watched, waiting for an awful cry, or a mad dash towards him, even an excruciatingly slow prowl. The Figure stayed where he was though. Still watching, eyes locked with Ichigo's; though his toothy grin toned down to a simple sinister smirk. Eventually Ichigo gave up watching even though he still felt anxious and his stomach was tied in knots. Not breaking eye contact with The Figure Ichigo calmly shut his window and moved mechanically to his bed to get some sleep. There was no use worrying about what The Figure may or may not be planning now, he would either do something or he would not. 

Ichigo slept fretfully that night, he could still tell that The Figure was watching his window - watching HIM - even though Ichigo was not visible through it at all. When he woke he felt rested enough, but there was weariness in his bones and anxiety boiling in his stomach. There was no way this could end well...or could it? There was something more to The Figure than the fear he incited, if it was just fear, instinctual and deeply rooted or not, Ichigo would never have started talking to him in the first place.

He could not put his finger on it, but there was something that drew Ichigo to The Figure just as it repelled him. Something in him wanted to know more, to go with The Figure, told him that there would be safety and comfort of a sort in the shadows of the trees with The Figure. This only served to make Ichigo's stomach twist into more knots, because to go with The Figure meant to leave his family - and everyone else - behind and he had a feeling that if he left, he would never see any of them again.

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

Each night after that first one was worse than the night before it. Each night The Figure moved a little closer to Ichigo's house, and he only did it when Ichigo - full of a nauseating combination of curiosity and apprehension - would go to his window and look out. He would see The Figure in the trees and lock gazes with him, and then The Figure would step out into the moonlight and grin up at Ichigo as he moved closer than the last time he visited before just stopping and staring like he always had. 

By the end of the week Ichigo was at a loss, tomorrow was his birthday but he did not feel the least bit excited. The Figure made it to the lawn that night, and stood leaning up against the inside of the fence, lounging with his arms resting across the top of the wooden barrier. Watching Ichigo like always, but maybe he could see more clearly now that he was closer, or maybe The Figure had only just noticed, or maybe it was something else entirely but his grin had turned into a small frown as he studied Ichigo. 

Ichigo sighed as he watched The Figure back, his own usual frown deepening a bit. He had not slept well after the first night, so he knew there were large black bags under his eyes, and his appetite had been dwindling - much to the upset of his family, especially his sister Yuzu - and he probably looked like shit because he had taken the day off school and had not showered. All in all he was a sight, and the more Ichigo thought about it the more his stomach fell because how could The Figure have such an effect on him. 

That despair began to turn to anger though when The Figure's frown deepened more when Ichigo's own had. That was it. No more of this bullshit, something had to be done. Maybe if he was moving now, he would talk now. Enough of this 'scare the poor Kurosaki boy out of his wits' shit so that he could amuse himself or what the fuck ever else he may have been wanting. So it was with maybe a smidgen more force than was strictly necessary, that Ichigo threw his window open, and leaned out with his arms crossed on the sill to glare poisoned daggers at The Figure.

The Figure did not seem to know what to make of this as the corners of his mouth pulled down a little more into a deep frown before the expression quickly changed into a cocky smirk. That gesture had a vein popping on Ichigo's head and his glare turned into a scowl, he began to silently debate whether The Figure's attitude was because he was trying to goad Ichigo, or something else. Ichigo hated being manipulated into doing things. Deciding to just screw everything at the same time as playing it safe Ichigo resolved to say only one thing.

"You're a fuckin' prick." 

The widening of eyes and sudden expression of shock on The Figure's face was all Ichigo needed to see to feel deep satisfaction as he continued his scowling and slammed the window shut again. Ichigo promptly turned around and headed to his bed, but just as he got settled, he heard something. At first it was quiet, but it quickly grew in volume until it was impossibly loud and quiet at the same time and entirely bone chilling. The raucous, maniacal laughter of The Figure did not so much drift as slam into Ichigo's ears causing him to feel a brief moment of regret. He had just been rude to a being that was almost definitely supernatural and clearly deranged, what the hell had he been thinking? Obviously he hadn't been.

The laughter did not die down too quickly, nor did it last overlong. Ichigo had no clue what to do now. He wished that he had never noticed The Figure. That he had never acknowledged its presence. That he had never started talking to it to forget the fear. That he had not just insulted it. That he had done everything and anything and nothing differently to not be where he was feeling what he was this very moment. As Ichigo fell into his most restless sleep yet, he knew that things would come to a head tomorrow, no matter what he did or had done, tomorrow would be The End. His fate would either be decided by a figure from the trees or he would somehow break that fate. Either way it would end.

The next morning Ichigo woke to find himself surprisingly well rested. He had been sure that he would barely be able to pry his eyes open in the morning when his alarm went off. Despite this, the day dragged by at a snail's pace and every tic of the second hand on the classroom's clock seemed to take minutes. Ichigo had a hard time staying focused on what his professors were saying, one even threw a piece of chalk at him after she had asked Ichigo a question and he failed to respond. At the end of the day Ichigo sighed in relief, and said goodbye to his friends. They had asked if he was feeling okay because he had been acting a little strange, but Ichigo brushed it off and said he was fine, just a little tired. 

Ichigo got lost in his thoughts on his way home, wondering and worrying about what tonight would bring, he was so distracted that he did not notice how far he had gone until he was opening his front door and entering the house. That had honestly been the fastest time had moved for him all day. Dinner and the small family party celebrating his birthday were just as slow as his day at school, possibly a smidgen faster because his family's antics generally got him sucked into their pace at least a little. Actually, it was a testament to how worried he was about tonight that his family - mostly his father – DID NOT get to him as much as usual.

And then it was finally time, Ichigo had spent the evening after dinner and the party in his room trying to distract himself with homework, as well as just wanting to get it done in case nothing earth shattering did happen. It was no use though, he could not concentrate any more this evening than he had been able to during the rest of the day. With a tired sigh Ichigo decided to give up sitting there doing nothing and opted to try and sleep a little since this was going to be a late night one way or another. 

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

When Ichigo woke, the sky was dark and filled with stars and the moon had risen. With a bleary-eyed glance at his clock he determined that it had not been dark out terribly long yet, maybe forty-five minutes. With a start he realized what that meant, The Figure would be there, waiting for Ichigo to look out before he started coming closer. Suddenly Ichigo was panicking; he thought that he had been as ready as he could be for this moment, thought that he could keep himself together. Well, his fast, shallow breathing was telling him otherwise now.

In an attempt to block out the suddenly overwhelming fear, Ichigo slammed a pillow over his head and hunkered down in his bed. That did not help. At all. Ichigo did however eventually fall asleep because the thinking was just too much for him, he could not take it anymore, so a shutdown was the logical autonomic response. When Ichigo awoke, another two and a half hours had passed, and though his nerves had not settled much, there was also a feeling from the core of his being that Ichigo could not not look out his window - if he did not look something MUCH worse than what he was dreading would happen, that, he knew without a doubt.

Getting out of bed, Ichigo was numb and his body did not quite feel like his own, but that was a silly thought. Of course his body was his own. Just before he went to open his window and look out, Ichigo stopped and took a fortifying breath. When he opened his eyes after exhaling there was determination lighting them, almost like he was about to go to battle. Ichigo reached forward and opened his window, taking a moment to enjoy the cool night breeze and admire the mood before he looked toward the trees to look for The Figure. 

The Figure was as easily picked out as always, with his glowing eyes in the dark cloak of shadows he regularly wore. As Ichigo watched The Figure stepped from the trees, he didn't grin and he didn't make a sound. This quiet was not so different, but his expression put Ichigo on edge; he almost looked a little apprehensive. The Figure continued to walk forward at a pace that was neither slow nor fast, arms crossed in front of him, hidden in wide sleeves. Closer and closer he came, never taking his eyes from Ichigo and with every step closer The Figure got, Ichigo's heart rate sped up a little more. 

Ichigo stopped breathing all together when The Figure finally made it so close to the side of Ichigo's house that he was practically looking straight up in the air to keep Ichigo in sight. He could not breathe, he could not bring himself to wear anything other than a mostly blank expression either, Ichigo was frozen. Awaiting the climax of this game The Figure had been playing, something years in the making. There was a flicker.

There was a flicker where The Figure was standing and then suddenly he was gone, he had moved to fast for Ichigo's eyes to follow. Ichigo's heart froze in his chest a moment before a stuttering beat started up again. Then he felt a violent shiver run down his spine and alarm bells go off in his head, he quickly whipped around, taking in a deep, fast breath when he saw what was behind him. The Figure was in his room.

The Figure was in his room. Standing right in front of him. Ichigo stood very still as he observed The Figure, eyes running up and down him. He did indeed have a rather sombre expression on his face, though as Ichigo stared at him it turned into a small half smile that was one part sad and one part dangerous. Slowly Ichigo dropped his arms down to his sides and stood up a little straighter, balanced on the balls of his feet in case he needed to move fast. Even though it was probably useless to even try.

The Figure regarded Ichigo for a moment, eyes raking over the boy's body. Then for the second time The Figure laughed, not maniacally like he had the last time, before he spoke for the first time.

"Well there, little King, what's got ya so tense there hmmm? Scared a' me? Where'd all tha' fire in ya go?" He let out an ominous sounding little chuckle when he finished as Ichigo's eyes widened a fraction at his words and his watery sounding voice.

The Figure's expression had changed when he spoke, now he truly looked like the predator that Ichigo had never quite been able to convince himself that The Figure was not. Before Ichigo could react, could move or respond to The Figure, he had moved and was suddenly in front of the boy with a hand in the middle of Ichigo's chest, right over his heart. 

"It's time to go now, little King~" 

As The Figure said this, his gaze softened just the tiniest bit, surprising Ichigo. Then it was Ichigo's turn to surprise them both when without hardly a thought he reached out and grasped The Figure's other hand in his own; it was surprisingly warm. The Figure's face went a little blank as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open a bit, as if to say something but unable to find any words. After a moment he shook his head and chuckled a little, raising his and Ichigo's still linked hands to place a kiss on the boy's knuckles. Ichigo blushed and tried to move away, but it was too late.

"Good Night, my King." said The Figure, and then the pressure on Ichigo's chest increased drastically; Ichigo almost thought that The Figure's hand was wrapped around his still beating heart the pain was so intense. Then, there was nothing but darkness and Ichigo knew no more.

 

.:~:0:~:.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For a little while anyways.


End file.
